


mine eyes have seen the glory

by skatingsplits



Series: give me my sin again [2]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, There's no plot here kids, zelda spellman deserves good sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 14:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16641933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatingsplits/pseuds/skatingsplits
Summary: Where Zelda had felt like she couldn't escape Mary Wardwell's suffocating presence, she's fairly sure she could prostrate herself naked wearing a tea-cosy on her head and dousing herself in petrol in front of Lilith and she wouldn't notice. And Zelda is not used to being ignored.





	mine eyes have seen the glory

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I've written several stories involving Zelda in some form of sexual situation or another and I don't think a single one so far has involved a bed. This is no exception.   
> 2\. Thank you all for your lovely comments on throwing down the gauntlet; this takes place after that but you can read it without having read the first story.

  
She's not sulking, absolutely not. Zelda Spellman doesn't sulk. She may be sitting in the parlour pretending to read with a wrinkled brow and something she won't call a pout on her lips, but Zelda is categorically not sulking. It just rankles a little that the most important female figure in the religion to which she's devoted her whole life is spending a very significant amount of time in her house and spending almost none of that time paying any attention to Zelda. 

When she'd first found out that the woman who'd been haunting her house like a very unwelcome ghost for the past few months was in fact the consort of the Dark Lord, her reaction had been mixed. Her initial instinct had been pure, rapturous delight that Satan himself had sent his messenger to take such a vested interest in Sabrina, ecstatic gratification of the kind she hadn't felt since Edward had been ordained as High Priest. The euphoria had faded, however, when Zelda remembered how exaggeratedly awful she'd been when she'd thought the woman was nothing more than a witch who didn't know her place. She'd been sarcastic, hostile and aggressive to such a large degree that she's honestly surprised that all her limbs are still attached to her body. And then there was the very unfortunate fact that they'd had what the characters on the trashy television shows Sabrina’s made her suffer through would call hate sex in the middle of the Spellmans’ kitchen, Zelda making the Mother of Demons beg for an orgasm while she clawed vicious furrows into her skin. Zelda isn't prone to having regrets about her sexual encounters but she's prepared to make an exception for one that might result in her burning in hell for the rest of eternity. 

  
Between one thing and another, Zelda spends the weeks after Lilith's revelation just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Every morning, she wakes up expecting to have unexpectedly been struck mute, or be smothered in rats, or with the whole house on fire, or something truly dreadful that only a demon could conjure up. Now that the woman has no need to conceal the extent of her power, Zelda is positive that there must be a punishment headed her way. But nothing comes. In fact, Mary- _Lilith_ (that's never not going to feel absolutely insane) barely acknowledges her existence. Where Zelda had felt like she couldn't escape Mary Wardwell's suffocating presence, she's fairly sure she could prostrate herself naked wearing a tea-cosy on her head and dousing herself in petrol in front of Lilith and she wouldn't notice. And Zelda is _not_ used to being ignored. 

  
So at present, she's curled up alone in the parlour in what is definitely not a fit of pique while Madam Satan is in the kitchen, making yet another play to restore Sabrina's faith in her. Zelda is trying and failing to concentrate on her Satanic Bible and definitely _not_ trying and failing to overhear the conversation going on outside. She's hyperaware of all the tiny little noises and creaks that usually fade into the background in an old house, listening out for any sound that would indicate that the conversation in the kitchen had come to an end. But unsurprisingly, the first indication she gets that she's no longer alone isn't the creaking of floorboards but a vague scent of something that isn't quite sulphur and isn't quite cinnamon wafting over her. 

  
‘Penny for your thoughts, Zelda?’ she isn't facing the door but Zelda would recognise that voice from the other end of the world. Ignoring the way her heart has started hammering like a baby rabbit's, she slowly turns to face her visitor. Lilith is standing in the doorway as she always does, clad in a green dress so tight that she must have been sewn into it and wearing a smile Zelda's only seen before on the faces of foxes who've just spotted a defenceless fluffy bunny. 

  
‘I, uh...’ words, Zelda, think of some words ‘Just perusing my Satanic Bible.’ She waves the book in question in the air, completely needlessly, and ignores the flush she can feel creeping up her cheeks. 

  
‘You must have it memorised by now' the way the brunette stalks across the room does nothing to dispel the image of a hungry fox from Zelda's mind, particularly when she takes a seat in one fluid motion that leaves her so close to Zelda that she can feel the peculiar heat emanating from Lilith's body through the barrier of both of their clothing.

  
‘There's nothing wrong with practising one's worship, surely.’ Zelda is used to being the hunter, not the hunted but it's difficult to mind too much when the creature hunting you looks like that. She's always had a weakness for pretty things and it's only exacerbated by the fact that this particular pretty thing is currently housing the spirit of a goddess Zelda's worshipped since her infancy. Really, she never had a chance. 

  
‘Oh, of course not. But perhaps you ought to put all that theory into a more practical application’ every time Lilith speaks, Zelda curses herself for not realising who she was the minute they'd met; she's had enough experience with sin in her nearly three centuries to know that Lilith's voice is the absolute embodiment of it. And then the woman slides her hand across the silk covering Zelda's thigh and it suddenly occurs to her that she might have fallen asleep in front of the fire and is currently in the middle of some kind of fever dream. Or perhaps this is her punishment, the beautiful demon is lulling her into a false sense of security before she strips the flesh from her bones. She already feels flayed raw, made vulnerable by how badly she wants, but there's no time to even try to build her armour up before she's being thoroughly, debauchedly kissed. 

Weeks of petulance and confusion fly out of the window, her mind is only focused on the sensation of soft lips on hers and the intensity of the ache at her core. All she wants is to spread her legs and let Lilith do whatever she wants to her, be it inflicting pain or giving pleasure, but a nagging little worry manages to permeate through the haze of otherwise unadulterated lust. 

  
‘Is this... Please don't think I'm complaining but is this wise?’ Zelda should not be this breathless this quickly but when she unwillingly pulls away she sounds like she's swum the length of the Atlantic Ocean. Despite her misgivings, Zelda can't stop running her hands over Lilith's back, down her arms, over her hips. Maybe it's all in her head, her subconscious playing tricks on her now she knows the truth, but being in Lilith's presence feels truly invigorating. 

  
‘Wise? Oh, I do hope not' the demon goddess smiles and swipes her thumb over the corner of Zelda's mouth where her lipstick is presumably in an awful state. It's almost impossibly difficult to exercise the restraint necessary to stop herself biting down on that warm flesh, sucking it into her mouth and pressing her lips on every inch of skin up the rest of her arm until she reaches those lips again, but she manages, waiting for the woman to finish.   
‘You mean you fear the wrath of our mutual master? Does he not bid us always to do as we wish, to take exactly what we want?’ the image of a stricken rabbit has never been more apt; transfixed by the look of pure hunger in Lilith's eyes, Zelda can only nod. ‘And besides, why would our Lord Satan mind sharing with such a devoted follower? Or mind sharing you with me, for that matter? Our souls are his, why shouldn't we take control of our own bodies?’ 

  
There's a distinct possibility that this is actually her punishment; if it's a ploy to murder her, it's working very effectively. Zelda doesn't think she's ever been as close to an orgasm while sitting upright and fully clothed as she is right now and the blood is pounding through her veins so fast she feels like she might spontaneously combust. Even if the tone of Lilith's voice wasn't literally superhumanly seductive, her words might have been plucked from one of Zelda's more self-indulgent sexual fantasies. And when she leans in and starts mouthing at Zelda’s neck like she's trying to paint a picture with her tongue, Zelda just closes her eyes and lets her, relishing in the sensation of that soft brown hair beneath her fingers and the purring sound Lilith makes when Zelda scratches her scalp a little harder. 

  
‘Relax, Zelda, let me take care of you' Satan knows she isn't usually this pliant but letting Lilith do what she wants with her sounds too blissful to object to. ‘Unless, of course, you want to take charge again?’ Zelda's eyes shutter open, stricken, but Lilith has the smile on her face that indicates she might be going to kiss Zelda again in the near future, not the smile that suggests Zelda is about to wind up paying an involuntary visit to her own morgue. Still, it can't hurt to plead forgiveness.

  
‘If I'd known, I never would have-‘

  
‘Wouldn't you? How disappointing, I was so hoping for a repeat performance’ Oh, that is far more than Zelda's mind currently has the capacity to cope with. ‘Not today, though. Today... I want you to lie down and let me explore. Last time you were too intent on spoiling my fun to let me see all this glorious beauty to its full advantage.’ Instead of using magic, Lilith uses her hands to divest Zelda of her silk trousers of pyjamas, without an ounce of concern for the fabric. If it were anybody else, Zelda would narrow her eyes and teach them a lesson on respecting other people's property but as it is, she really can't bring herself to care. 

  
‘Close your eyes' that spiced-honey voice murmurs and Zelda's lids are shut before she's even finished her sentence. She isn't sure if it's her lack of sight that makes the sensations of Lilith's hands trailing over her bare legs feel so delightful or if it's just the woman herself, a question that isn't answered when she feels rather than sees Lilith shift herself onto her knees and sling one of Zelda's legs over her shoulder. It's becoming increasingly difficult to breathe, particularly when Lilith's hand moves from its position on Zelda's knee to grab at her hip as sharp teeth nip at the soft skin of her upper thigh. Zelda's response to that bite is not a whimper, but she can't quite think of what the word would be for the frankly pathetic mewl that comes out of her mouth. She stops thinking altogether when the hand that isn't holding her in place slides up her thigh and without any preamble sinks two fingers into Zelda's very wet heat.

  
It's so good, unbearably good; the indescribably wonderful feeling of Lilith's fingers in her cunt is only matched by the sharp pain of the nails of her other hand digging hard into Zelda's hips and the cumulative effect feels like the most overwhelming form of absolution. She doesn't care about Hilda's rejection, Sabrina's newfound independence, the stolen child in her bedroom; all she can focus on is this, Lilith's hand inside her pushing all the stress from her mind and the tension from her shoulders. And when the woman closes her warm mouth over Zelda’s clit in addition to the gorgeous pressure of her fingers, all rational thought is extinguished as Zelda cries out like a wild thing. 

  
‘You like it’ Lilith says when she pulls away, sounding surprised even though she surely can't be, and Zelda nearly sobs because liking it does not come close. She's drunk on it, would hurl herself face first into the abyss if Lilith asked her to as long as she kept moving her hand like that. Zelda has prayed to Lilith before, hundreds of times; to strengthen her magic, to validate her choices, to empower her. What's spilling out of her mouth now is not the kind of prayer Zelda is used to but she's never felt so empowered.   
And when Lilith bends her head again and sets forth in earnest, Zelda thinks she understands why worshippers of the False God believe in ascension into heaven. She truly feels like her soul has left her body, is floating upwards on a wave of the most pure, visceral pleasure she's felt in her long life and she'd unequivocally make a deal with the devil for it to never end. 

  
But it does, of course, and when Zelda finally opens her eyes again, Lilith is sitting next to her exactly as she had been before, only with lipstick smeared all over her mouth and pupils blown so wide the colour of her eyes is barely visible. She's evidently about to fix the lipstick in question when Zelda puts a still-trembling hand on her arm to stop her. The demon queen looks at her quizzically and Zelda's answer is to lean in and kiss the question from her face. It always gives her a kick to kiss the taste of herself from someone's mouth, and the fact that it's the mouth of the Queen of Hell that's currently flavoured with the musk of Zelda's cunt would have made her knees weak if she hadn't been sitting down. 

  
‘How do you feel?’ Lilith's voice is softer than it had been when she'd had her cap set at seduction but it still sends a sensuous thrill down Zelda's spine. She's not even slightly sated, desperate for more, as much of the woman she can now call her lover as she can get. When her own voice rings out, it's a luxurious purr, thick with satisfaction. 

  
‘ _Divine_ '.  



End file.
